Crossing the Borders
by Lorien2
Summary: Lets consider that Elves exists in our time. Right now and here. So why we can not see them? Why we can not find them, talk to them, or meet them? This story has an answer why.


_A/N:: _

_Mae Govanien Mellon nin_

_This is my new story. I hope you will like it. Please, please let me know what do you think about it._

****

****

**_Crossing the Borders_**

****

The autumn sun was rising slowly from behind the hills. Sky was still black blue, but the horizon was getting purple when the first rays of sun were touching the ridges of mountains. It was one of the most beautiful moments to see the dawn in this region. As the sun climbed higher, the black sky turned light blue and the stars that could be seen only few minutes before were now consumed in light, which illuminated the orange yellow ball. The land was awakening into a new day.

Under the peaks of mountains the forest was spread into the distance. There were no cities, freeways, or other signs of civilization. It was an untouched land with its own beauty. The morning air was sweet and heavy, full of the scent of flowers and wet earth. However the soft breeze was fresh and cold. There was a silence. Although not the unpleasant one – it was a peaceful silence of an awakening forest. The rustle of leafs, the footsteps of animals or nearly hearable sound of water. The flakes of mist were still rolling between the huge slender trees when the sun now fully enlightened the wood; it was seven o'clock in the morning. 

The peaceful scenery was unexpectedly disturbed by barking. A golden furred dog ran at a high speed through the forest and was followed by two men. The dog sniffled a little bit around the tree and then returned to his owner. The man was slender and young while his friend, who was smaller, a little bit fat, and older as he admitted to himself, were alone and on hunt - a hunt for good scenery pictures.

On the younger mans shoulder hung not only the bag with food for the day but also a camera. Not the digital one, he hated such things. It was unimportant to have lightening, sharpening, and other things when you are a good photographer, and he considered himself a good one. It was in his family. His dad was a cameraman as well as his grandfather and his father. He grew up with the knowledge he would be one. Yes, he grew up….

He could not say that his childhood was unhappy. No it was the happiest time he ever had. He grew up in a capital city on the other site of these mountains in a good district what was very important in that time, because no one was truly safe. However their quarter was the safest one. Once in a while there were some burglar accidents, but nothing really happened, and in these days he found his best friend Steve. He had only six or seven when Steve who was 5 years older than he took pity on him and helped him to find the way home when he had gotten lost - and they stayed together. The best friends - actually they were like brothers. Steve was his lost part of soul and he was his. He was the only child and got everything what he wanted, but he were not selfish – on no account. His father never scolded him too hard or too often and his mother was one of those mothers, who thought that their son was the cleverest, handsomest, and kindest child on the world. So no he did not have an unhappy childhood. 

"John. What are you thinking about?" his companion asked in concern.

"Oh. Huh. Nothing important Steve." he smiled at his troubled friend.

"So what do you think? Where we should begin? I have never been in this part of woods before." Steve sighed and looked around. Trees were much taller and older as on the other side of mountains. The ground was covered with leaves that had fallen from them and with long yellow-gold grass, which moved in morning's breeze. The scenery was perfect.

"Me neither. But look around. It's ideal." John beamed with delight.

"If you think so" Steve muttered his doubtfulness under his breath.

Thus they began their work. Looked around for good position, of course it was important to found out a balance between light and shadows, but it was not as important as the soul of the photos. A good snap had to have its own soul, there had to be a message in it, something what photographer wanted to express. It was not an easy job to manage to work with that old camera of his.  Nevertheless the clicking sound of a working camera could be soon heard in the silence of forest. They did not stop until lunchtime.

"Hey John look over there." Steve whispered when he indicated the direction with his head. The dog was lying on his back; all four paws in air and the increasing growling, which was heard, expressed poor delight. Even though he was quiet a distance from the two men the camera had him clearly caught. 

"Wow it will be so... great." John whispered back. "And look on the surrounding – it is somehow different. Brightened and mellow." 

"Do not be mad. It's the same." Steve looked on watch. "We should go." He said angrily and got up.

The way back to town was silent. Steve drove the car and John sat in back with his

legs stretched across the seats, humming some melody to him. The atmosphere was getting thicker and thicker when they stepped into the dark room, but it seemed that John did not mind at all. He started to prepare the needed things for developing of photos and Steve looked around on John's worktable and picked up a simple paper, which was laid on it and read it.

"What do you think you are doing?" Steve lost his nerves.

John looked at him bewildered. "What am I doing?"

"You are really a bastard you know?" Steve was now in rage.

"Hey do not yell at me!" John was getting angry as well.

"But I will. It's still the same. Everything on the last minute – like the photos, you do not care for anything. Do you?"

"Hey that's not right. That is not the problem – pictures are good, are they not?" John was now shaking with fury.

"To hell with you John, You are 32 and still not carrying like 10 years before. You live in this old flat of yours; have no wife, children, or  a girlfriend. You are living this "incredible" life with your shady friends, still borrowing money from me. Do you not see it? You are getting down."

"I have a job that I enjoy and do not need anything else. And your concern about my living...I do not mind." John was now more stubborn then in his past. 

"Job? No you did not have the job- look here." Steve was waving with the list of paper across Johns face yelling at him. "The last time we have this discussion you promised to change. And what? Nothing happened. Look at yourself. No girlfriend, no real friends, debts not only to me, no work... You still told me you have no time for anything. What about your dreams to travel, your hobbies? The last time I spoke with you I was gentle, not to push you, to hurt you, but now... The same salary, that same place and you got only the work for short terms, nothing important. You have a problem John. Problem that is called "I do not care" and "No worries everything will be all right somehow". So... do not fool yourself." Steve's voice faded with his last words into the saddened whisper.

"But..."John was on loss of words. They buried this conversation ten years before, with him saying that he had understood. Then Steve left. He got a better job. And what about him? He lived his life, the same life. And now, now he was redundant. How had this happened? He did not know. But yes he knew exactly how it had happened. He left the photos for last minute and the date had changed. He remembered. How typical, now when he thought about it, it was not the first time. The debts that he thought he would lightly pay from this salary were gone and he was in problems up to ears. "Oh God. What to do?" He muttered when the realization of his situation hit him like a smack across the face.

The panic clearly showed on John's face, Steve recognized it. It was the same panic that had shown in John's face when he was lost, all those years ago. And again he took pity on him and decided to help him again.

Steve squeezed John's shoulder "Come on. Let's go home." They collected the photographs and headed to John's flat. The pleasantly warm afternoon was now thick with emotionally draining depression and haunted thoughts about the future, which was now unclear, uncertain, and dark. Steve was concerned about his friend. He knew him too well and he was afraid that he would slip into his usual state of depression and mania. And yes he could clearly see on Johns face that his state was depression. The symptoms were clear – his eyes showed sadness, guiltiness, his mood was pessimistic and anxious. He wondered when he switched to his hyperactive state. 

Only now John started really realizing, how much time he had wasted. And it was not only about time, but opportunities, talent and free space that he could use otherwise. He doubted his skills as photographer and as friend as well.

John, still deep in thoughts, sat on his couch and turned the mass of pictures on his table. The pictures full of peaceful light did not lighten his heart from troubles and desperation, which he felt. However, the photos with the dog caught his interest. He picked up one that they snapped when the dog was on his back and looked at it more carefully. Above the dog there were two slender creatures, one of them scratching the dog's belly. He looked at it in confusion. He was really emotionally drained when he could see such nonsense. He laughed in despair and handed the photo across the table to Steve.

"What do you think? Am I going insane?"

Steve looked at the photo and at first did not see what his friend meant. Nevertheless then he recognized the figures of some people. They were not sharp, almost transparent but they were there. He took other picture with dog and looked at it – they were there. He scanned quickly the rest of them – they were there.

"So do I." Steve gulped heavily. 

This simple statement woke John from his apathy. He nearly tore the pictures from Steve's hand and scanned them. He babbled something in disbelieve, looked at the pictures then at Steve, back at the pictures and his feature lightened. He had solved his problems with money. It was a crazy idea but it was his idea.

"We will go back."

"What?" Steve did not understand.

"We will go back, make more pictures about these, these... creatures, and make a lot of money. We will be rich."

"You are insane, really insane. Did you not understand what we had discussed a few hours before? That's the same problem with you. You are still trying to take the easiest way. Listen. I will borrow you money to pay your debts and then when you find a new job you will repay me. Ok?" His friend was getting himself into a trouble with these photos of his. He knew it. He looked only upon him and knew his mania state was here. 

"Oh come on. It is great chance." John beamed with energy and he could not stop his racing thoughts. He was resolute to go there.

"You obviously did not appreciate what we have talked about. This is still the old you with your risks and no caution. It's too hazardous." Steve was getting irritated. He though John finally understood and it seemed that he did, but now? 

John selected the photos, took his camera, and grabbed the coat. "When you do not want to go, stay here. I will go. You do not understand - it is an opportunity." He decided he would never lose any opportunity that he would have. John opened the door and left.

The road back into the woods was quick. John did not care about the speed limits. His mind was clouded with only one vision – to get the photos. The sun was slowly descending and it was getting colder. John buttoned his coat and prepared the camera. His breath was quicker and his blood was full of adrenaline that ran through his body in waves. He slowly, carefully stepped into the forest.

John arrived on the place where he had taken the photos. Slowly he looked around, The sun was now low and its last raises illuminated the forest. The land had changed somehow. The ground beneath his feet was smoother and softer, the trees grew taller, and its trunks were smooth and almost white. The smell of trees mingled with grass was more intense and the murmur of river and the thin sweet voices of birds were clearer. A strange feeling overwhelmed him. It seemed that his problems were lost in this silence full of voices. He thought inwardly that the clicking of camera was too loud and would disturb the peace. 

The land on which he set his foot upon was ancient, untouched and for unwelcome dangerous visitors.  He did not hear the two men who stepped from behind the trees, he did not see how one of them drew his weapon upon him and he did not feel the danger that approached him and pierced his throat with swiftness and elegance. The piercing pain shot through him and his strangled cry died in the forest unnoticed. His life was quickly leaving his body when he fell backward on the soft ground and his camera flew from his hands. However his spirit was so clear, his family, friends, lovers, his whole life was now dancing before his inner vision. It was amazing but only now he understood what Steve meant. He regretted that he understood so late. He wanted to laugh on his stupidity, but from his mouth run only blood. The last thing what he had seen was a beautiful creature looking upon him with saddened look in which he could read regret. The golden hair flew in air from his shoulders when he turned around and left.

 The nightingale sung his evening song in the deep of forest when the morrow felt upon the land. In the high of trees sat the Lord of wood behind his dining table with a goblet of wine in his hand. "The borders are well protected, my dear." The Lady looked back on her husband and through her face flashed a smile. "Indeed." 

            End.

_            A/N::_

_            So? What do you think? I am so thrilled to know your verdict. So let me know immediately._


End file.
